Dog Days

We have a couple of dogs - mutts, actually - that consume time and other resources way out of proportion to their size. They're rescue dogs; we got them when they were around 1 year old. They had either been abandoned or run away. They were found living on their own and taken to the local animal shelter.

As might be expected, they came with a set of issues. They evidently had been abused. They were alternately fearful of or aggressive towards men in general, and men wearing baseball caps in particular. They were okay with women and children, although a little skittish at first. On the plus side (sometimes) they're very intelligent and learn quickly. That's a mixed blessing. They've made a lot of progress since we got them, and for the most part behave like 'normal' dogs (whatever that is).

They're sisters, although you'd never know it to look at them. One is blond, hyperactive, and quite insecure. She has to be the center of attention. If you're petting her sister she'll come over and shove her way between you and the other dog. She's also quite territorial; lots of barking, growling, and aggressive behavior towards guests, delivery people, repairmen, and other visitors. The good news is that she only weighs around 25 pounds, although she doesn't seem to recognize that as a limitation. She's become a little more tolerant in the two years we've had them. She now accepts repeat visitors that she's become familiar with, although she still isn't happy with new ones.

The other is black and quite mellow. She must have some hound dog in her, because her favorite activity is laying. Just laying. Kind of like Duke from the Beverly Hillbillies. Her second favorite activity is eating. It's like an on/off switch, from inert canine to whirling dervish whenever the food bowl appears. She also has an extremely mournful look that she employs very effectively. Picture Eeyore as a dog instead of a donkey and you'll get the idea. She plops down on the other side of the room and then stares at you with sad, drooping eyes until you get up and go over there and pet her. This excites the blond one, who then runs over and inserts herself in the middle of everything.  

The preceding is a long-winded way of setting up the following. I mentioned that they were pretty intelligent. Well, they're so smart that they've learned to read and write. Not very well - they're still dogs, after all. Anyway, we found a diary that they've been keeping. The handwriting (pawwriting?) was hard to read, but I think I got it right. I've reproduced it below.

Excerpts from a Dog's Daily Diary:

8:00am Dog food! My favorite thing!

9:30am A car ride! My favorite thing!

9:40am Going for a walk! My favorite thing!

10:30am Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!

12:00pm Took a nap! My favorite thing!

1:00pm Played in the yard! My favorite thing!

3:00pm Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!

5:00pm Got to play ball! My favorite thing!

7:00pm Dinner! My favorite thing!

8:00pm Watched TV with my master! My favorite thing!

11:00pm Sleeping on my bed! My favorite thing!

Next day: Repeat!